


White Rabbit

by caribouandcake



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:58:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caribouandcake/pseuds/caribouandcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the hippies Ichigo and Grimmjow meet and become "enlightened" in the back of a van at the original, infamous Woodstock festival. It's psychedelic, babe. AU, Yaoi, One-Shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Rabbit

Woodstock Music & Art Fair

Bethel, New York

August 16th, 1969

He was beautiful.

There was really no other word for it. And Ichigo was an English major before he dropped out of that soul-sucking institution, before he realized that there are some things that transcend language and words, things like him.

Maybe it's the acid hit that he took several hours earlier talking, but he doubts it. Besides, that shit expands your mind, enhances the things that are really true and beautiful and pure and perfect. Like him. Everything Ichigo does is purely to broaden his horizons, open himself up to the world beyond, you know? Like, there's all this stuff just waiting for him to think about and touch and feel, but you can't fucking do that when you're in a box.

Ha, Ichigo spent his whole life in a box. School and short hair and martial arts. Bullshit. It's all bullshit. He can't believe he ever thought that something so violent and ugly could be considered an art.

Looking over at the beauty that is him, blowing smoke rings from between two perfectly shaped lips, Ichigo thinks that he now knows what art is. Someone had painted various colored flowers and swirls and something that was all the colors of the rainbow on his well-defined, tanned chest. They looked like they were alive as he inhaled deeply from the bong sitting in his lap and then exhaled the white smoke.

Living, breathing art.

He knew that he wouldn't regret coming here.

He and Renji had left the Berkeley campus, where they had been staying even though they had dropped out, as soon as they had heard about the "three days of peace and music" that would be held in the small, rural town. Of course, they had been a few days early, so they had crashed at a hostel in New York until the time came for them to pile into Urahara's van with a bunch of other people who tell them about how the place they're going to is "liberated territory." They talked about "pigs" and Lyndon Johnson and the war and the pros and cons of anal sex (they decided it was all pros, because, fuck, it's sex). There had been some dude there with an afro and a headband and it was so fucking obvious that he was a Hendrix-wannabee, but he had insisted that he was doing it before the musician. Whatever.

A day later and hours filled with bliss and music and Ichigo is now in the back of Urahara's van yet again, with people whose names he's sure have never even been spoken. It doesn't matter though, here they won't talk about the ugly, oppressive names their repressed folks gave them.

"Ya want?"

Ichigo had been in some kind of reverie, staring at that painted god in the van with half-lidded eyes, but was snapped out of it when he realized that that god was talking to him in a voice that rivaled the smoothest riff.

He wanted to say that yes, he did want, but it hit him that the god was talking about the bong in his lap, mistaking that those honey-hershey eyes were staring in lust for the pot. Unable to speak, Ichigo just nodded, his orange hair brushing against his exposed shoulders as he did so. Somehow he had lost the shirt that went underneath his vest, but not his vest...strange, but not unwelcome. He usually got hot while coming down from dropping acid anyway.

The god smirked, something that nearly sent Ichigo's heart into overdrive, and passed the long, glass bong to him, the orangette's hands bringing it to sit in between his legs as he sat Indian style on the edge of the back of the van. He and the god were the only ones actually sitting in the vehicle. All the rest of the group were lying on homemade quilts on the grass below them.

The god raised a fist in which he clutched a lighter between long and tanned fingers, his thumb flicking the thing on so that a small flame was visible. It was a question, and Ichigo nodded again as he leaned down to press his lips to the now warm glass opening of the bomb.

Inhaling deeply while that flame licked at the makeshift, tin foil stem, smoke billowing around his face, he studied the other male, the god.

Of course there were the obvious things, the face that looked like it had been carved from marble by angels, and the robin's egg blue hair that was swept back almost like a greaser but was left to fall between two defined shoulder blades. There were the eyes that were too blue to be real, the black pupils almost non-existent in irises of royal, deep blue, making it look like he had sapphires in his head instead of real eyes. They even sparkled like real jewels too. It brought up images of greedy corporate pigs clawing at that angelic face, wanting those precious stones.

He was beautiful. Like freedom and the sun and peace and the moon. Like a god.

"Wha's yer name?" he drawled in that seraphic voice.

Night had fallen and the music had stopped, leaving only the faint strummings of an amateur guitarist and the chattering and slurs and moans of the people around them to add a soundtrack to their conversation. He exhaled smoke and it floats up into the balmy evening air, air that sticks to his skin.

"I-it's Ichigo," he stutters, but his expression relaxes into a lazy smile as he realizes that it's the first time that someone has actually asked his name for the first time despite meeting at least two dozen within the past day. Yeah, he's heard people says its his "slave name" but it still feels nice to tell it to someone, because it's still his, you know?

The god's face lit up in a slightly feral smile, bright white teeth gleaming in the twilight. It looked positively hungry, like he ate meat or something, like this so called warrior for peace would sink those sharp teeth into his skin until he drew blood.

Ichigo found he liked it.

"Ichigo," the god repeated, then jerked a thumb at himself "Grimmjow."

Grimmjow. Ichigo knew almost immediately that the blunette's name wasn't the one given to him at birth, but the one he gave himself at his second birth. We're all born twice, you know? Once we physically enter the world, and another time when we actually see the light. Some people give themselves new names at this second birth, but usually they were something like Star Moon-Landing Child or Sunflower Freedom, names like that.

He wondered what it meant...

Ichigo's eyes dropped back down subconsciously to Grimmjow's chest, the swirls of colors making his eyes glaze over with happiness. It sounds strange even to him, but just those bright shades against the tawny skin...it just made him happy.

"Who did that?" he asked, pointing a finger almost rudely at Grimmjow's broad, exposed chest, not taking his eyes away. Normally he might have been a little embarrassed, but the combination of the acid still in his system and the weed that was slowly making its way to his brain made him a little more brash than usual. At the sight of Grimmjow's chest rumbling with a small chuckle, he guessed that it was okay.

"Me."

Ichigo's eyes snapped up to stare into azure ones that glinted with mirth, obviously amused with his reaction.

"Really?" his head cocked to the side and he absentmindedly moved the bong off of his lap so that he could turn to the side and get a better look at the blunette, who had done the same, drawing his legs up from where they were dangling off the back of the van.

"Yeah. I like to paint," Grimmjow answered simply, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

Ichigo's slightly dilated eyes dropped back to the beautiful canvas of skin and rainbow paint that was Grimmjow's chest and torso, gazing longingly at the pretty picture before him. Slowly, hesitant and yet unafraid, he raised his hand, his fingers splayed before him.

"Can I touch?"

Grimmjow raised one blue eyebrow at that, his slight smile dissolving into a full on, capital "S" Smirk. He leaned backwards, until he was resting on his elbows, as if offering up that expanse of bronzed and heated flesh under swirling colors. Ichigo felt his face flush at the sight, blood pooling in his cheeks and other places. He didn't think he'd ever actually seen something that was so divine.

"Go for it."

He didn't need any more encouragement than that, bringing one of his fingertips to lightly trace a deep red curve of paint right above the other man's bellybutton. He nearly shivered with delight when the skin underneath it tensed and quivered. Mouthwatering.

There was the red, like blood, and blue, like water, holy elixirs. Yellow and orange like the sun, like fire, it even felt hot to the touch. Green, brown, the Earth. Purple and the lightest of pinks, those were the flowers that he had mentioned earlier. Beautiful.

Before he could catch himself, Ichigo was following a spiral of blue between the pectorals with his tongue, tasting the not entirely delicious paint and the much more appealing sweetness of the heated flesh that lay beneath that layer, sending a tingle down his spine. He heard the sharp intake of breath of the other man and his head buzzed with satisfaction, taking his high into an entirely different dimension.

He raised his head to immediately look into brightened blue orbs, ones that glowed in the dark. It made him feel dizzy and breathless, but in a wholly pleasurable way, like his body was numb and utterly alive at the same time.  
It was times like these he was really glad he was a proponent of free love.

Grimmjow smiled again, something even hungrier than the last time and it sent shocks of titillation throughout Ichigo's entire body. Why did something that looked so sadistic and cruel look so beautiful at the same time? It went against almost everything they stood for, and yet...

They both looked over Ichigo's shoulder when they heard a heated moan from behind them.

It seemed that the rest of the group had followed their lead and they were now touching, kissing, feeling, and licking each other all as one on that homemade quilt on the ground. Ichigo felt his own eyes glaze over with even more lust, but he didn't really know what he wanted...he felt really confused.

Before he could even comprehend what was going on, he found himself lying flat on his back as Grimmjow had pushed him off of his chest and the blunette had shut both of the doors of the van, leaving them in almost pitch-black darkness, the only light coming from the dim overhead light in the vehicle.

"Wha-"

"Fuck them. Yer all mine," the husky reply came, sounding as if it was right next to Ichigo's ear and it made his entire body shudder. He wanted to say that he didn't belong to anyone, that everyone was their own person and that if he wanted to share his love with multiple people, he could do so at any time, but suddenly there were lips on his neck and he forgot all about all of the dribble he had been preached to about for years now.

Ichigo let out a surprised "Oh" and let his head fall back against the carpeted floor of the open van, the other man situating himself over his body, powerful denim-clad legs entrapping his in a vise-like grip.

Grimmjow's mouth against his flesh just felt so good. Better than anyone else he had ever been with, like ever. And he had never been held like this before, so possessively, a hand splayed against his waist. It was their way of life to share, but he got the feeling that the blunette didn't like to do that, and he found himself not really minding...

A hand slid up to curl itself in his long orange hair and he moaned when it tugged on the locks a little bit, the pain was pure pleasure in his lust and drug addled mind. And then...

And then Grimmjow's met his parted, full lips with his own. He tasted like smoke and a little like sandalwood incense, but underneath that was something foreign and yet undeniably masculine. Intoxicating. Beautiful.

Grimmjow's weight slowly descended upon Ichigo, pinning him to the floor in a delightfully heady way. Ichigo let his lips part completely to allow Grimmjow's tongue entrance into his moist cavern, and the other eagerly took up the opportunity to map Ichigo's mouth with that wet muscle, but it was far from sloppy. No, the blunette certainly had technique.

"Ah," Ichigo moaned a little when Grimmjow broke apart only to recapture his bottom lip with sharp teeth, nibbling and sucking. Then his mouth was gone again, trailing down Ichigo's sensitive jaw line, nipping and his hot breath ghosting along his skin.

He felt blood rushing from his head, leaving him even more disoriented than before, and traveling southwards, in his groin as Grimmjow's brushed against his, setting fire to his insides. Hands pushed away his fringed vest, leaving his chest completely exposed to the other man.

Nakedness, nudity, it was something he was used to. The human body was living art and so in his crowd, it wasn't unusual for one to show off their artwork, or even admire others, but this...why did it feel different?

He panted like a marathon runner as Grimmjow's lips descended even further, caressing his collarbone and those sinful hands tracing a line down to his pelvis, where they hooked their fingers into the belt loops of Ichigo's jeans.

The blunette looked up at him, a smug grin on his face as his lips hovered right above Ichigo's taut, right nipple and very slowly stuck his tongue out to give it one long lick, the pink appendage wrapping itself around the sensitive nub.

Why did Ichigo feel so exposed, so vulnerable under that too blue gaze?

"Ah, n-no," his head thrashed from side to side as Grimmjow's mouth continued to sweetly torture his chest, leaving love bites and marks all over the heated, flushed skin. It almost felt like too much. Maybe that's why he was saying no, but he wasn't really sure.

Grimmjow didn't stop until his head was in between Ichigo's legs, which were now open and spread to allow him access. Ichigo didn't remember doing that, but when he felt long fingers dip into the waistband of his jeans he forgot all of his worries as his hips bucked up into the air.

"No?" Grimmjow teased, his eyes so, so bright.

"A-ah," Ichigo writhed as heat continued to pool in the pit of his belly and in his groin, which was only made worse by the fact that the most divine face he had ever seen was mere inches away, and those hands were even closer. "Yes!" he groaned, bucking his hips again, sighing when his half-erect member got some sort of friction when his still-clothed groin made contact with Grimmjow's chest.

He heard a low chuckle and those fingers were fiddling with the button on his jeans, popping it open and then tugging on the zipper so slowly Ichigo thought he would go insane. No, he was positive of it, he was already mad with want. But what a nice way to slip into insanity...

When Grimmjow finally unzipped his jeans all the way, smirking again when he saw that Ichigo had been going commando (even though most of them did so anyway), he hooked his fingers into the waistband again and tugged down, revealing the now full throbbing and excited erection underneath as it bobbed free from its tight denim confines.

Ichigo sighed again as his cock met the damp, balmy night air, vaguely aware of his jeans being pulled the rest of the way down his long legs and being tossed into the front of the van somewhere. Lips met his again and he responded eagerly, wanting to taste every part he could, getting a tad over-exuberant as he bit down on Grimmjow's bottom lip so hard he drew blood, but it just earned him a pleased groan from the blunette.

Grimmjow's hand slid up from where it had been resting on his thigh and trailed over to lightly play with the coarse hairs at the base of Ichigo's erection. Ichigo whined, something he would deny later, and wriggled his hips trying to give Grimmjow a non-verbal hint and the blunette, chortling quietly to himself yet again, obliged him. Ichigo would have to remember to ask him just what was so funny later.

"Mmmh..." Ichigo cried when Grimmjow's hot fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, moving softly against the sensitive skin. Oh god, he needed more. "More," he demanded. "More, more, more." He was thrashing his head to the side again, his eyes nearly closed, only keeping the sight of Grimmjow's painted chest in view.

He thought he would die as that view slowly turned into a neck, and then a beautiful face, and then long robin's egg hair and then nothing and then white stars danced across his eyes as hot, hot heat embraced his member. A strangled moan escaped from his swollen lips as he tried to get his vision to focus so that he could make out just what was going on, not that he cared much because it just felt so good, like nirvana and heaven and all those good places mixed together.

Honey-hershey eyes gazed down to meet sapphires that were staring him down in what could only be called amused lust. That glow in the dark stare was nearly his undoing, but what really caught his attention was the fact that it was Grimmjow's mouth that was causing him to feel like this, that the other had deep-throated him from the get-go, and was now sucking him off. The sight of that face, that mouth, wrapped around his dick. Too much.

"Ungh," he panted as Grimmjow's head bobbed up and down, carnal slurping sounds filling the van. Oh god, the sounds. They were almost as good as the view. especially when the other hollowed his cheeks and sucked even harder.  
Ichigo felt the coiling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his belly, that sweet ache that was building in what felt like every part of his body, his toes curling at the sensation. To restrain him from bucking up, Grimmjow placed his hands on Ichigo's hip bones, holding him down and turning him on.

And then with a wet popping sound, Grimmjow pulled off Ichigo, that feral smile, like a serrated knife, split across his face. For some reason, it was enough for Ichigo to come right then and there, not that he wasn't close enough to it already.  
Almost embarrassed by the whimper he let out at being denied any more pleasure, he writhed again, unable to use words in his fuzzy head, the one that felt like it might fall off at any second and he wouldn't even care. However, he stilled in his actions once he saw Grimmjow's hands drop to his own zipper, which was now straining significantly, the light blue material stretching to its limit if the bulge was anything to go by.

It was almost as if he knew Ichigo was enjoying this with some sort of voyeuristic pleasure as Grimmjow seemed to take his time unzipping his jeans, he did this even more slowly than when he had undressed Ichigo and it was driving the orangette positively insane.

"C'mon already," Ichigo groaned impatiently, reaching for his own erection until a larger hand stopped his. When he looked up at Grimmjow with confused and slightly pained eyes, the blunette smirked and dropped his jeans to his knees, leaving his member exposed to the other male's hungry eyes.

He shouldn't be surprised, really. Because everything about Grimmjow screamed big cock, but shit...it was really something, already fully hard and leaking precome and the thing was just positively massive to say the least. Surely he didn't mean to...

"Mmh!" Ichigo cried out a little in surprise and outrage as three of Grimmjow's fingers forced their inside of their mouth.

"Suck," the blunette commanded and Ichigo felt his now painful erection harden even more just at the simple word from the other man. He had never had someone be so...dominant with him before. It felt good.

Ichigo lapped at the digits dutifully, making sure to fully coat them with his saliva, because hell, it was for his own benefit. He sucked on them, laving at Grimmjow's fingers with his tongue as the other settled in between Ichigo's spread legs, upon which he started to stroke the orangette's erection again.

Moaning, Ichigo almost screamed in frustration as both of Grimmjow's touches were gone, hands coming to rest on the back of his knees, hitching them onto broad shoulders. Again, he felt so exposed, but in a deliciously good way. He knew Grimmjow could see everything he had to offer down there and somehow it had him feeling terribly nervous and excited at the same time. It was an exhilarating feeling.

Grimmjow's digit pushed at his entrance and Ichigo groaned as he felt a finger slip all the way inside. It wasn't his first time bottoming, so it wasn't really uncomfortable. Then a second.

"Ah," Ichigo sighed, letting his head fall back but still keeping his eyes trained on where he could see Grimmjow's fingers disappearing inside of him. It was highly erotic and he loved the sight. There was no such thing as emasculation in their world. "T-that feels good.." he trailed off, his eyes closing as he lost himself to the sensation of those two digits stretching his hole. There was a slight burn, but it felt good, like doing a toe-touch or something...

"Gonna make ya feel even better."

God, he could just hear the smirk in Grimmjow's voice.

Then suddenly, those white stars were back, bursting and swirling under his closed eyelids.

Grimmjow hadn't been lying.

Ichigo's breath turned to full out panting as the blunette's middle and ring fingertips circled and slightly rubbed against his most sensitive spot, that button that seemed to light everything in his body on fire, melting his insides. He felt like he was full of warm honey and yet there was the overwhelming tingling sensation as that spot was gently stroked, almost too gently.

His sounds of helpless frustration couldn't be stopped when Grimmjow's fingers left his entrance and his eyes opened to glare accusingly at the gorgeous specimen of beauty before him. His whole being pulsed with a need he had tasted but had never really truly felt until this night.

"Now," was all he managed to say coherently as he was lost in blue.

Grimmjow smiled, and it was something that made Ichigo's heart stutter in its pace and something strange and unfamiliar flutter up from his chest to his throat, because it was a real smile, not a smirk or a grin. It was beautiful, just like everything else.

The bigger male lined himself up with Ichigo's entrance, pushing in slowly but steadily, penetrating that tight passage. It hurt a little, and it was always kind of strange when he did this, because Ichigo always felt a little too full, but it just felt too good for him to even think anything negative about it.

"Ah, yeah..." he groaned, biting his bottom lip. Grimmjow licked his lips and continued pushing in, Ichigo didn't even think that there could possibly be more, but there was and it was about a minute until he was fully impaled. He blinked once, somehow not even comprehending just how full he felt and he stared up into that intense, cyan gaze.

"Ya good?" Grimmjow asked through gritted teeth. It took a few seconds for Ichigo to answer, but when he did he just nodded slowly. It seemed like all words had left him. "Gonna move." Ichigo just nodded again, his lips parting to form an "o".

Grimmjow pulled out the slightest bit and sank back, seating himself all the way inside of the orangette. The once more, pulling out further and then thrusting back with more force. However, it was on the third movement, when he snapped his hips a little upwards that Ichigo finally let out a sound, a long, drawn out moan that was unmistakably one of pleasure. This made Grimmjow smile again. He knew he had sexual prowess, but he had never had someone be this overwhelmed before.

As that sweet spot was brushed up against by the hot skin of Grimmjow's cock, Ichigo thought he would come right there, but thankfully he didn't and instead he arched his back up off the van's carpeted floor as the blunette began to move regularly, pulling out only to thrust back in and fill Ichigo up to the brim. Subconsciously, Ichigo knew he was ruined for any other man that might want to sleep with him after this, no one else's cock could ever be this satisfying. Seriously, Ichigo already felt sated and he still had a painful erection that bobbed up and down with every one of Grimmjow's assaults on his entrance.

"More," he managed to say, not for the first time that night.

"Yer a greedy one, ain't ya?" Grimmjow asked, mirth clear in his husky voice. But he let Ichigo's legs drop to the floor and upon the confused and disappointed look he received wrapped his arms around the lithe boy's waist and lifted him so that they were both sitting, Ichigo now in his lap.

Thrusting upwards, Ichigo's entire body moved with his motions, his moans now being broken up by the sound of skin slapping against each other as they both ground against each other. It felt different in this position, almost like Grimmjow could bury himself even deeper inside of the smaller male, but Ichigo doubted that was even possible.

Their lips crashed together, all tongues and teeth as Grimmjow continued to assault Ichigo's tight passage with his thick member, the sweet, hot tightness almost too much for him to bear.

"Shit, moan louder for me," he breathed against Ichigo's ear. Ichigo was only too happy to oblige, having always been a vocal person, in and out of the bedroom.

Grimmjow, almost like a reward, then wrapped his hand around Ichigo's neglected member, pumping in time with his thrusts and thumbing the slit, which earned even louder cried from the other.

"Ah, f-fuck, Grimm...gonna come," Ichigo panted, letting his head loll forwards onto Grimmjow's shoulder, not even caring that he had used an unauthorized nickname.

"Then come," Grimmjow ordered, his breath hot against Ichigo's neck as he cradled the orangette in his lap, still thrusting in and out of him.

"O-okay," Ichigo sighed, half out of his mind with the pleasure he was feeling, the coiling in his spine and that sweet ache as his prostrate was massaged by Grimmjow's cock befuddling his mind until he wasn't quite sure what was really going on. His orgasm came when Grimmjow sank his teeth into his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, white strands of glistening liquids coming out to land on both of their chests and bellies.

"Ah, shit," Grimmjow groaned against the flesh of Ichigo's neck as he followed, releasing his seed into the abused passage, the fluids coming out to seep past his member and land on Ichigo's tanned thighs. They both panted heavily for about a minute, trying to catch their breath after the pleasurable ordeal.

"Far out," Ichigo muttered as he slumped on the floor, Grimmjow's cock slipping out of him. Now that he could see a little bit more clearly in the dark, having been it for a while now, he could now make out that the paint on the blunette's chest had all been smeared together, some even rubbing off on his own abdomen and chest. It didn't matter, it was still beautiful. And now naked, Grimmjow looked even more a god then when Ichigo had first seen him.

He wondered if he should start a religion.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Ah, SORRY for all of the trippy drug talk. But I wanted to try something different. How I ever thought of this I have no idea...a hippie Grimmjow. I have finally lost it. *shakes head*
> 
> Anyway, hope ya liked! This whole one-shot was so unlike anything I write...and if you can believe it, that was my first actual detailed lemon. D: I hope it wasn't too terrible...


End file.
